


Winding Me Up Too Long

by seventhTense



Series: Shuake Doujin-based Fics [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira & Goro are both 2nd-years, Akira & Goro both attend Shujin, Happy Birthday Goro!, Lots of fucking in this one, M/M, Studying Rivals AU, no personas AU, porn with feelings (but mostly porn), very brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhTense/pseuds/seventhTense
Summary: Both second-years at Shujin High, Akira and Goro have been studying together for a while, and have set up a little competitive game to spice up their days- whoever gets higher grades, completes homework faster, scores higher on a test, etc, gets to make the loser do whatever kind of humiliating, embarrassing punishment the winner can think up.So far, Akira has never beaten Goro once.Until today.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Shuake Doujin-based Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770622
Comments: 7
Kudos: 183





	Winding Me Up Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Goro, I got you a lot of fuckin for your present <3

Victory swam through Akira’s veins like lightening arcing through a river. Finally. _Finally._

He stalked through the halls and up the stairwells of Shujin Academy, for once not caring about the frightened, stupid whispers about how scary he must look, how intimidating his expression is, rumors and reputation and judgments- today, none of that mattered, today he could afford to not care, to scare them all so badly with the aura radiating off of him that they’d never look at him in the eye again, viciousness and righteousness carved clear into the sharper-than-usual lines of his face, because finally, _finally, **finally,**_ he had _**won.**_

Akira reached classroom 2-D, where he knew _he’d_ be waiting, and slid open the door with a loud, crashing _bang_. His eyes flicked across the room, and the tiny, toothy smile playing on his lips warped into a jagged, vicious grin as they found their target, cleaning the blackboard at the front of the empty classroom, his wine-red eyes shifting from offended shock at the noise, to surprise, to amusement, to nervousness, to _fear_.

Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi had a... unique relationship. When Akira had first been transfered to Shujin a little less than a year ago, Akechi had been assigned to keep an eye on him, and the dutiful Student Council President had hovered, hawk-like around the oh-so-dangerous criminal assaulter for weeks and weeks.

Their relationship was tense, full of distrust and fear and resentfulness (probably on both sides, Akira guessed), until, one day, Akechi found Akira hunched over a half-dozen books in the library, studying diligently for a midterm that was still weeks away. Curious and surprised (or so he faux-pleasantly claimed), Goro had drifted over to ask what Akira was working on, whether anything was giving him trouble, and, well. Akira resented the guy, saw him mostly as Akira’s polar opposite; extraordinarialy competent, the Student Council President already, despite being just a 2nd year like Akira, hyper-popular, charming, beloved by those who only ever looked at him from a distance, dutiful and respectful towards authority. 

But, Goro _was_ at the top of his class, and he was skilled enough to manage top grades along with all the responsibilities a President must have, and if Akira ever wanted to get even a shred of respect from his grumpy-ass barista of a caretaker, he knew he’d have to get even higher scores on his tests than the 85s and 90s he had gotten back home.

So, taking a gamble that Goro wouldn’t just mock him, Akira decided to be honest. He told Goro his weaker subjects (math, always math, and fuck science too honestly), and ever-the-responsible-President, Goro smiled and crinkled his eyes and offered some help, and Akira accepted.

The problem was, of course, that rather than being a high-and-mighty good-boy and a scary, dangerous delinquent, get just a couple inches under their skin, and both Akechi and Akira were fiercely competitive, wickedly smart kids with as many insecurities as they had well-honed, complementary skillsets. Goro was good at everything, sure, but as one surprisingly enjoyable study session turned into weekly meet-ups, over time Akira ended up proving himself to be just as capable as Goro was. They’d finish worksheets at almost the exact same time, and when Akira started smirkily crowing that he finished _faster_ than Goro, well, Mr. President certainly couldn’t have that, so the next time they met up, he brought a stopwatch to time them, down to the millisecond.

Their competitions only escalated from there- they’d vie for completion times on homework and quality of their essay questions and handwriting legibility and a dozen, dozen other things, until...

...until it wasn’t enough. The thrill of seeing who would win each of their little fights was exhilarating, but even as his heart beat so fast he could physically feel it rumble in his chest, Akira could tell from the slightly wild, almost needy look in Goro’s eyes as he scanned over his worksheets that Goro was left just as unsatisfied as he was.

So they started adding _stakes_. Before class or before a study session, they’d agree on a punishment should one of them fuck up in their school work. The person who finished their homework last would have to get the other one a drink or a snack from the combini down the street. Whoever had more grammatical mistakes in their English papers would have to wear a sparkly, magical-girl hairpin in their hair for the whole of the next school day. Whoever made a mistake or answered wrong when called on in class would have to bake fancy little snack cakes and prepare fancy-ass tea and coffee for their next study session.

It made things exciting for sure, but frustrating too, since as soon as they added consequences to losing, Goro went all-out on every one of their competitions, throwing himself so passionately and intensely into whatever they were competing on that Akira had never won once.

A couple weeks later, though, and when they next met up to study (they were meeting up practically every other day after school at this point), Goro had that ominous, flickering fire in his eye again, sated on the challenges he had ceaselessly bested so far and hungry for something bigger, something more _dangerous_.

Akira felt something twinge in his gut at the sight of Goro looking like that, something he had never felt before but _very much_ wanted to feel again, so when Goro proposed raising the stakes again, he agreed without hesitation.

He should have hesitated. Fucking hell he should have hesitated.

Akira had chided Goro so much during their first few weeks of studying together for underestimating him, but Akira had so, so disastrously underestimated how much of a sadistic streak Goro had running through him. Still, they had agreed; whoever won that week’s competition would get to make the loser do anything they wanted, no limits, no boundaries (so long as they weren’t hurting themselves or each other, of course).

Akira had felt the tension, the anticipation in the unused classroom the staff gave them permission to study in rise exponentially when they had shook on the new terms, and he had studied extra-hard appropriately, but even then he never imagined how hard Goro would go without any fucking hesitation or preparation.

Goro scored higher than Akira on a test, and Akira had to put his hair up in pigtails and spend the whole day talking like a stereotypical gyaru- even to the fucking _teachers_. Goro finished an in-class essay faster than Akira did, and he got front-row seats as Akira had to ask girl at the counter of the Shibuya Big Bang Burger for a free smile with his meal every day, for a week straight- the sheer, unyielding horror Akira felt when, on the last day, the girl looked at him with intense depression in her eyes and told him “We’ve run out of stock of that item, sir,” would stay with him for the rest of his days. When Goro scored several points higher than Akira on their next midterm, he escorted Akira to a goddamn S&M store in Shinjuku, had him buy an absurd, fake-leather harness- with his own fucking money- and wear it under his summer polo every day for a week, constantly worrying if he’d sweat too much from the stifling summer heat and the criss-crossing straps would show through the soaked white shirt.

Goro’s sadism was as limitless as it was inventive, and every week for _months_ now, he had set up punishment after creative, awful punishment for Akira, and no matter how hard Akira worked, no matter how much vengeful fire fueled his long, sometimes sleepless nights of study with the desperate hope of beating his rival, just once, Akira had not won a single one of their competitions.

_Until fucking now._

The scores for their last midterm had just gone up, and when their teacher had tasked Goro with cleaning off the chalkboard for the day, Akira had dashed out of his seat and fuckin _booked it_ to where the teachers had posted the scores- and lo and behold, Akira was a full One Point Higher than Goro. Finally. **_Fucking finally._**

At the front of the classroom, Akechi stood stock-still, and for the first time since they met, Akira saw terror in his rival’s eyes. Shuddering with a satisfaction that he had never felt over the course of years of jerking off, Akira strode ever-so-slowly to the front of the classroom, pulling his phone out as he reached Akechi and swiping it open to show the picture he took of their test scores.

Akechi stared at the picture, Akira’s 96 hovering over his 95 like a ravenous jungle cat, ready to pounce and tear its victim’s throat out at any moment. Seconds ticked by, Akira’s satisfaction thrumming through him stronger and louder, until Goro wordlessly shoved his phone back at him and stormed out of the class.

Akira knew where he was going, and trailed behind the President all the way back down the stairs, back to where the scores were posted, the crowd clumped around them a little less dense than before, Akira’s score still sitting as proudly atop their grade’s list in real life as it had been in the picture.

Akechi stared at the numbers like they were a painting of a vengeful god who had cast down a plague upon Akechi’s family. Akira let him, for just a little bit, then moved up right up behind him and murmured with a vicious confidence into his ear, “ _Gotcha, A-ke-chi~_ ”

The President jumped, just the tiniest bit, and spun around to glare at Akira, who hadn’t stopped grinning the whole time. They traded gazes for a while, Akechi’s simmering fury only rising the longer they stayed like that, until he turned on his heel with a noise somewhere between a huff and a growl and stormed off back towards the stairs. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder, and Akira could hear how hard he was gritting his teeth. “Let’s get this over with.”

Akira only chuckled. He had been preparing for this day for a long, _long_ time. It was going to be _perfect._

Akechi led them back to their unused classroom on the third floor, the tension growing and growing between them as they went. He threw open the door when they arrived, nobody else around to see their perfect little President act so inelegantly, and Akira followed him in with a dark chuckle. 

He slid the door shut behind them, and as Akechi moved further in to plop his ass on the teacher’s desk, Akira quietly _click_ ed the lock closed too. As funny as it might be if it happened, Akira didn’t want to get walked in on for this. This... this was going to be something special. A memory he’d treasure for a long, long time, like a malevolent dragon lording over a mound of treasure soaked with the tears of those who had wronged him.

Akira shook off the mental imagery, and followed Akechi in, shouldering his bag off and resting it on a nearby desk, then opening it up to start digging through it.

“...well?” Akechi barked impatiently, his irritation not quite masking his nervousness. It was rare that Akira got to see Akechi act like this- during the day he was always the Charismatic President, during Akira’s punishments he was a cocky, jeering overlord, and during their study sessions... well, most of the time, he was a lot more genuine then, just a focused, snarky kid with a dry-and-dark-as-the-back-of-the-moon sense of humor and a laugh that sounded like it should have come out of the mouth of some Superhero movie’s villain. Akira liked that side of him a lot, found it charming in the weirdest way.

This Akechi, though... this was the Akechi Akira only saw when one of their teacher’s snapped at him for no reason, or some fawning underclassman acted too familiar with him- nasty, angry, spitting out curses and insults in the same way someone would brandish a spiked shield- though only once he was alone with Akira, of course.

This was the Akechi that Akira had wanted to see every time he had to deal with one of the President’s embarrassing punishments, his mocking smiles. The twitch of Akechi’s eyebrow, the sneering curl of his lip, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk he sat on, _this_ was what Akira had been waiting for for so long. Or at least this was the start of it... 

“Get on with it, damnit. What’s my punishment?” Akechi continued, sneering mockingly. “Am I going to have to be your little maid for the day, call you _master_ and _nya_ at you like some fucking catgirl? Are you going to have me give the next morning assembly address in Kansai-dialect? Are you gonna strap a fucking vib-”

“Akechi, chill- wait, what?” Akira blinked a few times, having looked over his shoulder to quiet the quickly-spiraling President, then only processing what he had stupidly interrupted Akechi from saying. “What was that last one?”

“...just get the hell on with it,” Akechi muttered, face very red now. Akira’s grin grew just a bit wider. He had seen Akechi frustrated before, heard him swear before, but good god alive he had never seen him this... _vulnerable_ , his rusty, vulgar little trains of thought on full display, quickly-fraying nerves baring them for all to see. It felt deeply satisfying, to have this kind of effect on Akechi, but also oddly special, intimate.

...well, it was about to get a hell of a lot more intimate in a second anyways, so. “As you wish, Akechi.” Akira gave him a cocky little wink as his fingers finally found purchase on the plastic bag at the bottom of his schoolbag, hidden there every time the day had come when the results of one of their competitions were announced for months now, just in case Akira ended up winning.

With a showman’s flourish, Akira pulled the unmarked white plastic bag out, and gently handed it over to Akechi. Shooting Akira a dubious look, Akechi took the bag, then slowly opened it up and pulled out the contents.

‘Skimpy’ wasn’t quite the right word for the two-piece swimsuit Akechi now held. A skimpy swimsuit would have just the barest patch of cloth to cover the chest, a thin strip of fabric for the crotch. No, this was something more, something special. 

The top piece was little more than a few strings, the part that was supposed to cover up the wearer’s nipples consisting of two tiny scraps of cloth, with a little gap between them that was clearly supposed to be a window for the rosy little buds to stick through.

The bottom piece was almost worse. It was clearly designed to be worn by someone with a dick, with what could generously be called a little pouch in the front for their package to rest in, and not even that much on the back, just a single, shimmery black string to run across the asshole- not to cover it up, just decorate it, if anything.

It was an outfit that wasn’t designed with swimming in mind so much as it was made for _easy access._ Akira didn’t have anything explicitly perverse in mind, giving it to Akechi- obviously it was a perverse swimsuit, but he didn’t intend to _do_ anything to Akechi. He’d have the President change into it, have him pose for a few pictures, just enough to rub the embarrassment in as deep as it could go, and then he’d be done. It was several dozen levels more embarrassing than anything Akechi had asked Akira to do before, but considering how unlikely it was that Akira would ever beat Akechi again, he had to take what opportunities he could get.

Akechi stared and stared at the swimsuit for a good solid minute, then blinked up at Akira with the most expressionless face he had ever seen on a living human being. “You have to be shitting me.”

Akira’s grin grew more, big and toothy, and he shook his head. “Nope,” he replied simply, popping the _p_ with his lips. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, towards one of the larger cupboards at the back of the room. “You can change over there- if you open one of the doors it should shield you from view.”

Akechi scoffed, expression warping from a blank canvas to burning anger in an instant. “You’ll make me wear this thing, but you’ll _oh-so-generously_ allow me _privacy_ while I change into it?”

He chuckled again- god, this was everything Akira had been hoping for, this was so satisfying. “You’re welcome,” was all he said, and Goro let out another seething, almost inhuman noise before stalking off to the back of the classroom.

“You turn around _once_ while I’m changing, and I’ll rip out your lungs,” Goro threatened, his voice getting muffled by the cupboard door halfway through his sentence.

Akira laughed again at the absurdity of his threat, but nodded anyways, even though nobody was there to see it. “Aye aye.”

For several minutes, the only sound was the rustling of fabric and the occasional, viciously muttered curse as Akechi tried to get the swimsuit on. Akira tapped through his phone for a bit while he waited, but he soon found the anticipation and excitement in his chest too distracting, and opened up the camera app in preparation before shoving the phone back in his pocket. He hopped up to sit on one of the desks and closed his eyes, listening to Akechi’s struggles and letting his imagination paint the scene for him. It was comical, but also weirdly arousing, and Akira tried his best to stamp out that side of things- this was supposed to be a punishment, the instant Akira crossed the line from something meant to terminally embarrass Akechi to actually perving on the guy, this would stop being a fun (if very high-stakes) competition and turn into something a lot more... hostile. Abusive. Akira wasn’t going to let it get to that point.

Eventually, finally, Akira heard the cabinet door swing shut, and Akechi sighed, then padded over back towards where Akira sat, the slap of his bare feet (that surprised Akira, he kind of expected Akechi to put his socks and shoes back on just to ruin the sexy appeal of the outfit) just barely audible on the tile.

Akira kept his eyes closed as Akechi approached, willing to give him the small mercy of deciding when he was fully ready for Akira to see him, and after a few more seconds Akechi sighed again. “Fine. You can look now.”

Akira opened his eyes-

...oh **_fuck._**

Akira had never seen Goro Akechi as a sex icon by any means. The guy was pretty, that was undeniable by even the msot hardcore dudebro straight guys at Shujin. He had a dazzling smile and stunning eyes and his hair framed his face in just the right way to make him look all soft and non-threatening and sweet no matter what he was doing or how passionately he spoke. 

Akechi was pretty, he was handsome, he was cute, but Akira had never really seen Mr.-I-wear-sweatervests-on-my-days-off-because-they’re-comfortable-why-are-you-snickering-Kurusu-kun as _sexy_. 

Akira’s eyes raked over Akechi’s body in the swimsuit, and felt that little twinge in the back of his gut again, except it was not little at all, it was massive, overpowering, a fishhook made of velvet tugging at something inside of Akira, _awakening_ something inside of Akira.

He looked so, _so_ hot. Akechi’s skin was pale, but he had way more freckles dotted across his body than Akira would have expected- and a hell of a lot more muscle too. He wasn’t ripped by any means, but his arms and his abs had noticable definition to them, his pecs just prominent enough to make the skimpy pseudo-bra hang tight on him, not a hint of slack. Akechi’s nipples were shrunken and hard, likely from the cold classroom air as much as just from plain nervousness, but they weren’t small by any means, Akira easily able to imagine a wide, pillowy-soft spread of pink, were Akechi more relaxed.

Akira’s eyes drifted lower, and then nearly bugged out of his skull. Goro had amazing legs, big, muscly thighs and tight calves that spoke to his passion for biking, but that was so not what Akira was focusing on, all background stuff, set dressing to the lead actor straining at the fabric of the curtains hiding him away. Akechi was fuckin _packing_ , the heft of his cock, even soft as it was, enough to strain the little pouch of the swimsuit so it draped over his dick, the edges of it not even touching his body. The classroom was still dim, the only light coming in through the thin blinds on the windows, but Akira swore he could see a hint of Akechi’s sack too, around the edge of the fabric. His mind supplied imagery of how tightly the string running across Akechi’s asshole must be pressing up against him, rubbing and sliding against the sensitive skin with every move he made...

There was a noise, and Akira blinked, jolting out of the lustful daze he had fallen head-first into, looking around- his eyes landing on Akechi’s face, and... oh dear. He noticed. Akechi absolutely noticed how stunned Akira was at the sight of him, and Akira couldn’t even be surprised, the more he returned to himself, he noticed that his mouth had dropped open a little bit, his lips parted and his breath heavy, his face hot and flushed, and oh god he was _so hard right now,_ the bulge in his pants must be noticable, assuming Akechi looked to check-

Oh he 100% had looked to check. Akechi was smirking the biggest, shittiest smirk Akira had ever seen, prideful and taunting and caustically amused. Akira tried to pull himself together again, took a deep breath, pulled out his phone, swiping it open, the little light above his camera flickering on-

“Oh, you want to take _pictures_ ,” Akechi commented, voice rich with amusement (and something else, something a little wild, but Akira was far too flustered to think about it right now). “I suppose you’ll want me to strike a pose, hm? Some sort of cheesy gravure shot?”

All confidence now that the power in the room had gone back to him, Goro moved to grab a chair from behind one of the desks and dragged it across the floor til it was in front of Akira. “Something like this?” he quipped, facing the chair towards the side of the room and leaning over, resting his arms on its back, so the full length of his body was on display from the side. He fluttered his eyelashes at Akira, and Akira scrambled on reflex to line up the shot, hands shaking as he snapped the picture. 

Akechi laughed and moved again, pointing the chair towards Akira this time and sitting down in it, his legs spread wide, his arms resting behind his head. “How about this, hm?” he taunted again, and Akira gulped dryly, took the picture, frustration at Akechi so effortlessly controlling what was supposed to be a punishment warring with the tsunami of arousal raging in Akira’s loins, and oh god the tip of Akechi’s dick was definitely poking out of the panties now, he was getting just as hard as Akira w-

“Or perhaps...” Akechi’s eyes went half-lidded, full of purpose and danger and something darker, and he rose from the chair and slowly, ever-so-slowly padded over towards Akira. Akira swallowed again, dry as the desert, unable to break his gaze with Akechi, and Akechi grabbed the collar of Akira’s turtleneck, dragging him off of the desk he was sitting on until they were face to face, inches apart. 

“Perhaps,” Goro murmured, then licked his lips. He plucked Akira’s phone from his hand, laid it down gingerly on the desk, his gaze not leaving Akira’s for a second “You were thinking of something more like this?”

Akira felt his eyes start to flutter closed, caught a glimpse of a vicious, _vicious_ grin, then felt himself spun around, moved then shoved into the chair Goro had been posing with. Akira fell into it with a grunt of surprise, He blinked his eyes open again, only to see Akechi descend on him, moving to straddle Akira’s lap as he sat down on top of him.

“Hm? Was this it, then? Your grand scheme, your great punishment?” Goro taunted. He reached forwards past Akira’s shoulder to grasp the back of the chair, then leaned backwards, swaying his shoulders and his chest around, one hand cupping one of his pecs as if they were breasts. “Was this what you imagined, late at night, furious and vengeful after I beat you _again?_ ” 

Akechi rolled his hips on Akira’s lap, and oh dear god Akira had never noticed how plush Akechi’s ass was, how big it was, but fuck it was so soft and pliant and squished against Akira’s thighs, and-

Akechi laughed, and a bit of Akira’s sense started to come back to him amidst the roar of overwhelming sensation and need in his mind. It was happening again. Akira had won, had put in days and nights of study and focus and planning and preparation, had beaten him, finally, and here Akechi was, _winning, **again-**_

Akira had promised himself not to cross any lines today, not to abuse the power he held over Akechi.

Akira would never hold any power over Akechi if he kept playing by the rules.

_Fuck it._

Akechi laughed again, but the confident, almost evil noise was cut off, pinched into a high, shocked moan as Akira suddenly surged forwards, wrapped an arm around Akechi’s back and sealed his lips over one of Akechi’s nipples, sucking and nipping at it, teasing it with his tongue and his teeth. 

Akechi let out another high, moany breath as he looked down, asked “Wh-what the hell do you think y-”

But Akira cut him off again, reaching around with his other hand to roughly squeeze at Akechi’s bare ass, while at the same time he licked up from Akechi’s nipple to start sucking hickey after hickey into Akechi’s freckled neck and along his collarbone. Akechi moaned again, more shocked, more control slipping through his fingers as Akira started to ravage him.

“Y-you... why- _ah!_ ” Akira must have found a sensitive part of Akechi’s neck, sucking a mark into it and laving at it with his tongue, and Akechi even rolled his hips instinctively. Akira sucked and bit another mark into the same spot, and Akechi let out another moan-

“ _Ah-Akira!_ ”

Akira froze, or froze as much as he was able to with Akechi panting and sweaty and grinding in his lap. He moved off of Akechi’s- no, _Goro’s_ neck, and stared up at him, surprised. There had been so much feeling in that moan, and that could have just been written off as the arousal, but Goro moaned Akira’s name like he _meant it_ \- no, he moaned it like it was familiar to him, like he had moaned Akira’s name dozens of times before, passion and comfort growing each time.

Curiosity poking its head out in the back of Akira’s mind, he slowly lowered his eyes, running them down Goro’s panting, dripping body (good god this guy sweated a lot), until he reached the other boy’s crotch.

The panties were barely covering anything at this point. His cock was almost fully in view, the tip and most of its length bobbing out from the top of the fabric, the fabric itself damp with sweat from his still-covered sack. The tip of Goro’s dick shone, pre-come reflecting the scant light from outside.

“Why... why did you stop?” Goro asked, his voice light and far away, and Akira barely heard him, his heart pounding in his ears, veins throbbing with lust and want and _need and **need and-**_

Faster than thought, Akira’s hand dashed to undo the button and the zipper on his fly, shove them aside- he lifted his hips up just barely so he could shove them aside more, and his underwear too, and pulled out his own impossibly hard cock.

Goro made a noise of surprise when Akira lifted up his hips, looked down, confused- then gasped in shock and pleasure as Akira pressed their dicks together, rolled his hips in his seat, even that scant friction filling his mind with relief, though his hunger, his need only grew.

Akira wrapped a hand around their cocks and started stroking, leaned up to suck at Goro’s neck again as he jerked and frotted, needing his lips on something, overwhelming lust not overwhelming enough to override his fear of kissing Goro and getting rejected, even now, even after all this, but there wasn’t time to think about that, thank fuck-

Goro’s moans were high and bright as the sun, moaning an almost rhythmic beat of “ _Ah, Akira, Akira, Akira-_ ” over and over, a mantra, a prayer that Akira felt resonate deep in his soul.

They both must have gotten more excited than they expected from the teasing, because just as Goro’s moans started to get higher yet, Akira felt a familiar coil in his loins, stronger than any he had felt before. He quickened his pace all the further, matching Goro’s cries of his name with his own ragged, broken voice- “Goro, _Goro, close- close-!!!_ ”

Release hit Akira like a train, hit him all the harder as he felt Goro’s dick pulsing in time with his own as they coated Akira’s hand and each other’s chests in cum. 

When it was over, Akira blinked his eyes open, shifted to look up at Goro, whose gaze looked as clouded and heavy and.... and _unfulfilled_ as Akira felt.

Akira’s eyes flicked down, both of their dicks pressed up against each other, still hard, still twitching. 

Neither of them were satisfied. Not yet.

Summoning strength from where, Akira did not know, he hooked his hands under Akechi’s thighs and lifted him up. Goro let out a surprised squeak, voice still stuck in the higher register from all that moaning, and wrapped his arms around Akira’s shoulders as he was carried over to the teacher’s desk. They were fortunate that this classroom wasn’t in use, as the desk was completely bare, so nothing was in the way as Akira laid Akechi down on top of it. 

Goro’s eyes sparkled, uncertainty and anticipation and lust swirling together, and Akira grinned, a little wild, a little unhinged.

A beat, then Goro reflected the same grin right back at Akira and spread his legs. Akira barked out a laugh, not mocking, more out of pure positive energy, and he started to strip, tossing his jacket and suspenders and stained turtleneck and pants and everything else off in less than a minute. 

When he was totally naked, dick bobbing in the open air, he grinned at Goro again and shook his head. Goro’s grin turned a hair confused, then a lot more as Akira climbed up onto the large desk too, crawling on top of Goro, hovering over him. 

He leaned down until their chests were pressed together, but Akira’s knees were still on the desk, propping his ass up. Into Goro’s ear, he whispered, breath hot and heavy, “ _Prep me_.”

From the side, Akira saw Goro’s eyes go wide, and a second later saw his grin go all twisted right as he felt Goro’s hands come up to cup Akira’s ass, spread his cheeks apart and press and probe at his hole.

It didn’t take long, Akira sucking at Goro’s neck and panting into his ear as Goro slipped a finger, and quickly afterwards a second and a third inside him. In the back of his head, Akira thanked his past self for the curiosity that sparked up after they visited that BDSM store, driving him to mail-order a small dildo, then progressively larger ones as his interest and need grew.

When he was ready, Akira leaned back up, resting on his haunches, feeling the tip of Goro’s dick twitch against the curve of his ass. He exchanged a look with Goro, eagerness and need and that wild edge reflected in both their eyes, and Akira raised up. 

Akira thought of all the times he had played with the dildos he bought, all the times he slid them into himself or sank down on them, and how often he started imagining it was Goro he was riding as the months went on.

He reached under himself, took Goro’s dick in hand, and slowly lowered himself down. 

The feeling of Goro pressing against him, spreading him wide and filling him up, warm and hot and twitching and big, _so big..._ it was like nothing else. It was perfect. Goro was perfect. Today was perfect.

Seconds or hours or days later, Akira’s ass finally met Goro’s hips as the last of Goro slipped inside him. Akira felt his breath stuttering, felt so much, blinked open already-watering eyes as he heard himself let out little moans with each breath, saw Goro staring up at him with an almost worshipful gaze, heard his own labored breathing, breathy moans. 

On reflex, Akira squeezed around Goro, and Goro moaned, and Akira moaned, and Akira _moved_.

Practice made perfect, and Akira settled into a quick, merciless rhythm as he bounced on Goro’s dick, at first leaning back, resting his hand next to his legs on the desk, then slowly collapsing forwards, his face on Goro’s chest as his legs and his hips snapped up and down, ramming Goro into him over and over. 

“Fff _ffuck, fuck_ , you’re so- _ah!_ ” Goro swore and mumbled and cried out as Akira bounced and squeezed and grinded against him, though Akira was barely aware enough to notice, pleasure and tightness and _fullness_ and his own moans as he got closer and cl-

“ _ **Oh-**_ ” Akira cried out, as Goro’s hips snapped up right as his were snapping down, and his dick drove and rutted against the perfect spot. “ _There, there,_ Goro- ** _mmfff!!_** ”

Goro did it again, and again, and again, and they were soon in a new rhythm, a whole new song, Akira clenching tighter and both their hips swinging faster and he clung tight to him as he fucked himself on Goro and Goro fucked into him over and over, fast and perfect and his brain was melting, his whole being was melting, pleasure like honey drenching his mind as sparks and lightening and fire and explosions went off every time Goro hit that spot, again and again and again and-

“ _Close, Goro, closeclsoecloseclose-”_

“Fuck, yes- _Akira, yes, so close, so-_ ”

Wild, uncontrollable light flooded Akira’s being, and he cried out Goro’s name almost as loudly as Goro cried out his, and he felt Goro pumping and filling him up impossibly further, and felt his own release, stronger than his heartbeat after a marathon, and he _felt_ , and the world went white.

Minutes or seconds or centuries later, Akira’s awareness crept back into his head, and he blinked his eyes clear of all the overwhelmed, oversatisfied tears that had poured from them as he came. He felt Goro’s arms around him, Goro’s slowly softening dick slip out of him, a slow trail of still-hot cum following it, sending strange tremors through every one of his nerves.

Akira couldn’t lift himself up to look at Goro, so he just turned his head, which had ended up next to Goro’s at some point, only to see Goro mirroring the movement next to him. Their eyes met, and Akira couldn’t help but smile at how purely good Goro looked like he felt, unfiltered or sheilded. 

Goro smiled too, and with a burst of warmth and what was unquestionably love in his chest, Akira moved closer, closed his eyes, and kissed him.

As if on instinct, Goro kissed back at once, his lips soft and pliant, hands coming up to slide through Akira’s hair, cup his cheek just as Akira was stroking Goro’s. They broke after a few seconds, but Akira was still smiling, his eyes still closed as his heart spoke, buoyed by how good everything felt, sleepy and slurred but no less heartfelt, “Love you, Goro...”

...

...no response.

Akira cracked his eyes open. Goro looked... well, Akira couldn’t really describe how Goro looked, not in a single word at least. His face was twisted, contradictory- he was smiling, but his eyes looked deeply confused, almost lost, definitely overwhelmed. His breathing was labored, and while his eyes were still trained on Akira’s lips, as much as his own lips were quivering, looking ready and wanting for another kiss, he was holding himself back with so much force that the muscles on his neck were visibly straining.

Akira slipped off of Goro’s chest just slightly, reached up to brush a tear trail away from Goro’s eye, whispered a soft, vulnerable “...Goro?”

Panic flared in Goro’s eyes, across his face overriding everything everything else that had been warring there, and he tumbled off the desk, scrambled to his feet, dashed over to where he had left his clothes, and then burst out of the classroom without another word.

Akira blinked at where Goro had been, lying so content, so happy moments before.

“...fuck.”

\---

Akira did not sleep well that night, understandably, and school was almost unbearably tense throughout the whole of the next day. Goro and Akira shared the same classroom, the same classes, and the tension in the room between them was so unbearable that even the teachers stopped and stammered a few times, almost seeming to ask what was wrong before being silenced by some kind of _look_ from Goro that Akira couldn’t see, several rows behind him.

It was torture.

However, even torture could not compare to the sheer terror Akira felt when classes ended for the day, and Goro stormed over to him faster than he’d ever seen the other boy move before, Without a word, Goro grabbed Akira by the sleeve, and Akira barely had time to close his bag before Goro had dragged him out of his seat, leading him by the arm out of the classroom, down the stairs, and out of one of the back doors. 

They ended up behind the school, in an area few people visited, mostly just grass and trees that students sometimes ate under during lunch. Nobody was there at the moment, and Akira was about to ask what was going on, or maybe apologize, or maybe demand to know why Goro left like that, he wasn’t sure-

-and he never got to find out. Before he could speak, Goro stopped, spun Akira around, and shoved him face-first against the wall. Akira had instincts enough to put his hands up, stop his face from smacking into the wall itself (not that it would have, it wasn’t that forceful of a shove, really, just surprising), but his cheek pressed against it, the hard tile digging into his cheek-

-and before he could ask what the fuck _that_ was about, Goro growled, and without a moment’s hesitation pulled Akira’s pants and underwear down in one yank. Shock silenced Akira, until a moment later when a slicked-up finger pressed inside of him, and he let out a sharp moan.

“You may have outdone me yesterday, Akira,” Goro growled, and dear god he was right up against Akira’s ear, Akira barely able to pay attention to his words or the heat of his breath on Akira’s ear over the mercilessly quick pace of Goro fingerfucking his ass. “But not again.”

“Wh-what-” Akira barely managed to say, before Goro thrust another slick finger inside him, and as soon as it slid inside, hooked it up, dragging the tips of his fingers against Akira’s prostate, shocking another gasping moan out of him. 

“I don’t know where you got the experience that let you beat me yesterday, but it won’t happen a second time.” Goro growled, and while his eyes were already watering from the stimulation, Akira could see Goro grinning that vicious, nasty grin as he spoke. “I’ve always been a better and quicker study than you, Akira, and I spent all of last night practicing and honing my skills.”

A third finger, and Akira slammed his hand against the wall with a choked-off, desperate moan, Goro was so fast, _so good-_ “Victory will be _mine_ , Akira,” Goro growled, his words starting to get slurred as his pace increased. “You’re _**mine...**_ ”

Akira was getting delirious, moaning and panting Goro’s name as he fingerfucked him faster and faster- he felt his insides start to tense, closer, so close-

Roughly grasping Akira’s chin, Goro turned his head to the side, growled “ _Akira-_ ” and kissed him with a passion Akira had only ever dreamed of.

Stars exploded throughout Akira’s body as he came and kissed back as best he could. He broke the kiss as his orgasm faded, panting for air-

-but Goro turned him around, as rough as before, and hooked his strong hands under Akira’s knees, hefting him up off the ground. On instinct, Akira wrapped his legs around Goro’s hips, barely noticing the stone tile digging into his back-

-and absolutely noticing Goro’s already lubed-up dick pressing where his fingers had been just moments ago. Goro dove in and kissed Akira again as he pushed inside of him, and Akira cried out an overstimulated moan into Goro’s mouth.

Goro started fucking Akira properly, and Akira felt himself get hard again before long. “You had- ah- had better start studying properly too, Akira,” Goro grunted out between pants and moans. “I wouldn’t want- fuck- wouldn’t want a series of easy victories.”

In the midst of all the pleasure, that little quip struck a cord, woke up the competitive spirt that had sparked so much chaos yesterday. Some of his strength returning, he reached up and grabbed Goro’s collar, pulling him in for a deep, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Akira slid his tongue against Goro’s, Goro soft and pliant from surprise. Before Goro could get his bearings, Akira pulled back, tugging at Goro’s bottom lip with his teeth a little as he did so.

Trusting that Goro could handle a little more of his weight, Akira loosened one of the arms wrapped around Goro’s shoulders, let himself slip a little more down the wall, interrupting Goro’s rhythm and aim for just a moment, until Akira could reach around and smack Goro’s plump ass.

Goro let out a sharp, high little moan of surprise, and another as Akira slid his fingers between Goro’s cheeks and started stroking at Goro’s own entrance- and slipping inside it surprisingly easily. Huh. Goro really had been ‘studying.’ 

“Heh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Goro,” Akira smirked back, or smirked as best he could while he was being fucked against the goddamn wall. “I’ll- ah, fuck- I’ll study as long- mmf- and hard as it takes til I one-up you again...”

Goro barked out a laugh, started fucking into Akira all the faster, all the harder. Akira cried out a stuttered moan, but as soon as he recovered from the shock, slipped another finger inside Goro, thrusting them in as best he could. “You’ll- oh _fuck, Akira-_ you’ll have to study,” Goro panted. “For _years..._ if you want to beat me. Years and- _ahhh-_ years and years-”

“Then I’ll take years,” Akira barked, and Goro stuttered to a halt in his thrusting. He shifted to meet Akira’s eyes, and Akira felt his grin return- still a little twisted, but warmer thanks to the wonder sparkling in Goro’s eyes again. “However long it takes, Goro, til I beat you, again and again until you surrender.”

“...I’ll never surrender,” Goro murmured.

Akira’s grin grew wider still, warmer still. “You better not.”

Goro’s expression grew soft as the implication hit him, and his eyes grew teary, and he surged forwards and kissed Akira, tender and slow and passionate. As they kissed, and kissed and kissed, Goro started fucking into Akira again, slower, more careful, each drag of his dick against Akira luxuriating and perfect, less fucking, more making love.

Akira shuddered, joy and pleasure and need tumbling inside him, and shifted his grip, slid his fingers deeper inside Goro, hooked them up at just the right spot. Goro moaned, loud and wanton into their kiss, and started moving faster, chasing release and something else, desperation and need and moaning, louder and louder as they went. Akira thrust against Goro’s sweet spot, and Goro thrust into Akira’s, and they cried out, and stutteringly, not in synch but perfect all the same, they came. 

Akira blinked his eyes open as he finished, finding his forehead pressed up against Goro’s. Goro blinked his eyes open too, and the tenderness, the love in his gaze made Akira smile bright and beaming, made Goro do the same, and they kissed once more.

One competition ended, and another began, for that week and forever more.

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at like 1am yesterday night and got the Horny Creative Vibes and wrote all this in one go. Whoops.
> 
> The title is from a kinda dumb song of the same name by The Alan Parsons Project, but plot-wise this is all *heavily* based off of a pretty trashy doujin I stumbled across months ago called 'High Risk Game' by Kurokoshi You. It's trashy and het and dumb as hell, but I got big shuake vibes from it, so here we are! I've got a couple other fic plots like this in my Big Discord Server Of Fic Ideas, similarly inspired by trashy doujins that felt vaguely shuake-y to me, so if/when I write those, I'll post them as parts of this fic series!
> 
> This is also the first time I've written a fic where they actually full-on fuck! More than half a year of writing for the P5 fandom and I've never written penatrative stuff til now, and when I finally do they fuck like three or four times! X}P
> 
> I planned at first to just save this in my folder, to post sometime when I needed a break or something, but then I saw it's both Goro's Birthday today -and- the first day of Pride Month yesterday, so fuck it! I hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> If you wanna keep track of my writing progress, or just see me trying to put out some lighter shuake headcanons and stuff in the midst of all the... *gestures vaguely at everything* going on these days, my Twitter is [ @SevventhSteen! ](https://twitter.com/SevventhSteen) The next thing I'll be posting will be the next chapter in my Childhood Friends AU Longfic [ "Like The Moon, We Borrow Our Light," ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227510/chapters/50538923) but who knows, maybe I'll get all hot and heavy some other night this week and write more of this nonsense instead. We'll see!
> 
> Stay safe, check in with the people you love to make sure they're doing okay, don't let this fucked-up year grind you down, and when it gets too much, dive into some sweet shuake goodness from time to time- we all need this sort of stuff these days. 
> 
> <3 See y'all soon!


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